Every couple of weeks, I let Katy know it’s the day of my counseling appointment. I go up to our bedroom desk with a cup of coffee and lock the door, so the kids won’t disturb me. I log into Zoom and click the link my counselor has sent me. She asks how I’m doing, and I answer. For forty minutes, she asks about my family, my relationships, my job, my moods, my past, and other things. I tell her about taking Prozac and what’s weighing on my mind. It reminds me of talking to one of my college friends who’s really good at listening. My counselor asks question after question, not really giving advice, but as I process it with Katy afterwards, I realize there’s things I’d like to change about how I communicate and act.
I’m trying to stop and be still more, and I’m not very good at it. My heart races, and I crave adrenaline. So, I’ve started listening to the birds around our house. There’s a pair of cardinals who live nearby who I like especially for their vivid red color. I named them Charles and Gweneth. There’s a pair of Blue Jays too, lots of chickadees, a peregrine falcon, and a brown hawk. We see herons flying South at dusk like at our old apartment, and there’s lots of other birds I can’t name. My grandfather gave me his old bird book, and I like that when I watch our birds, I’m doing something that he did.
This is Charles. I’ve tried several times to get a picture of him in the woods and finally got one of him on this telephone wire.
Joel and Katy